


Preparations...

by Xobit



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus' gets initiated into his future, it is not what he had thought it would be...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preparations...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus' gets initiated into his future, it is not what he had thought it would be...

It was just another ritual. 

Optimus knew that this, like all the others, was simply a thing he had to go though. Something he had to endure because he had been chosen to endure it. It did not change the fact that he would have liked to do without. 

In fact, he could have done without being chosen by the Matrix of Leadership, and the changes it had bestowed upon his frame. He had been gifted a new name by the council, Optimus Prime… it sounded so very grand. 

Inside he was still Orion Pax, dockworker turned pad pusher. 

He had been chosen though, had spent an orn meditating in the temple of Primus deep under Cybertron’s surface. Now he was at Chaar, at the temple of Unicron the world destroyer, expected to meditate another orn. 

There was nothing more frightening to him than the visage of the world destroyer. Orion had been a peaceful mech all his vorn, Optimus found no delight in the harsher parts of his new position either. War, offlining, destruction, and violence… 

“Change is needed at times, mech,” looking up with surprise Optimus saw a shadow-hidden figure of a large mech in one of the alcoves. Was he not supposed to meditate alone?

“Change doesn’t have to mean violence?” maybe he was supposed to answer some sort of test… 

“But change move all the faster when sparks are on the line. Else your world would not have had transforming, you would never have ventured into space. War tempered the mechs of your past, and in its wake mechs like you were Created. Mechs that have the luxury of advocating peace before violence,” the voice was pleasant, the words were scary. 

“I cannot believe that we would never have reached were we are now if we had not had wars!” He refused to believe that!

“A few versions of your world did. Not even a handful though, there needs to be a drive for major change and your kind does have violence in their sparks. Half of you is me, after all,” the mech stepped out of his shadows and Optimus froze. He wanted to run, scream… how could this even be?

“Your kind call yourself the Creations of Primus, forgetting that even gods need two sparks to Create. I was the other half of the merge that created the first thirteen, I was the one that kindled the fire of your sparks.” The mech, big and frightening if also beautiful, stopped before him. The green optics looking down at him coolly. 

“Even you have that fire in there; it shows though in your convictions, your faith and your loyalty. Less volatile than in some of my other children, like the ones that live here on Chaar, but still fueling your core being,” a long pause and then a small smirk appeared on the thin, scarred dermas. “You will do nicely.” 

Optimus had no idea what to expect, but it was not to be hauled up and then deposited on a berth that had not been there an astrosecond before. The covers and pillows were even softer than what he had been given since he had been chosen. He did sort of wonder how he could even think to notice that when the world destroyer was above him. 

Touching him. 

Kissing…

“What are you…” he was cut off as the god deepened the kiss, invading his mouth with a glossa big enough to fill it. He was stiff with fear and yet heat flushed his systems with nary a moment's warning. Want, desire, need! 

“I will teach you how to accept a larger lover, chosen of my brother, for I have chosen you to be the consort of my own chosen ones.” Optimus wanted to ask, to demand an explanation, but heat rolled though him again and all he could do was arch up helplessly. 

Large hands with deadly claws mapped out his chassis as he writhed beneath the god, crying out when he was pinched, arching every time he tried speaking, and heat robbed him of his voice. Unicron was not interested in his words it seemed, maybe not in explaining either…

A deep laugh shook his chassis, that feeling erotic in a way, something he had not thought laughter could be. But why was the god laughing?

“Such innocence… my chosen ones will adore it!” His panel opened eagerly under the prying claws, he did not want it but it seemed that Unicron and his chassis were in tune. Or maybe the god was somehow forcing him on a level past the physical? 

“I am merely enhancing your physical reactions, since I only have you for an orn. You are my brother’s chosen, this is the only time I can touch you.” A claw invaded him, shocking him with how good it felt. He had always thought that it would hurt, be at the very least uncomfortable. 

“Such an eager chassis, my brother did promise to choose well for them… it is high time for us to reconcile. Our sparklings should do the same,” then the god stopped speaking, instead kissing him and setting out to explore his chassis with his mouth and glossa. 

It was the most wonderful sensations he had ever felt. Even when the god took his seal the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure. Fear welled up again when a second chassis pressed against his back, a second mouth nibbled his audio finials. 

“Don’t be afraid, you need to know,” it was disorienting to hear the god’s voice from two mechs, as much as anything in this encounter was disorienting. He bucked and pushed feebly, a protest silenced by another overpowering kiss when a second spike was pressed to his already stretched valve opening. 

How would it ever fit? 

It did. Somehow it did, stretching him so wide he had warnings shriek at him even as he overloaded violently~

“~Prime,” the voice was unfamiliar? “Optimus Prime? The vigil is over, sir.” 

Flickering his optics a little he slowly focused on the mech before him, a novice with the orange seal of Unicron prominently displayed on his chest. The young mech held out a bowl for him and he realized it was energon. His three orn of fast and one orn of meditation were over…

“Thank you, I…” had he fallen into recharge and dreamt? He could have, that would have been terrible! But would someone not have…

“You were in deep meditation, sir, it takes a while to come out if it. The high priests have withdrawn after the orn went by but you stayed in for nearly four joor more than you had to…” the novice looked like he was in awe at that, a little flushed with excitement. He automatically flushed hot too, embarrassed by the fact even though the novice could hardly know what had happened during the meditation cycle. 

“Thank you for the fuel, I wish to retire now…” He needed true recharge and then he would have to deal with the high priests. The novice took him to a room, and he lay down to start his cycle. 

His last thoughts were to check if he still had his seal, he did, and then to wonder who the dark god’s chosen might be. 

Why had he _needed_ to know what it felt like to have two spikes in him…


	2. Culmination…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And suddenly he figured out why he had needed Unicron’s initiation into the realm of interfacing…

“Tch! Peace,” Megatron flickered his claws at the concept, looking down upon the silvery planet with barely controlled anger. This was not what he wanted, he could not understand why they were doi… 

That was not true. He huffed and turned away from the sight of Cybertron, the Cradle of the All Spark, the seat of Primus, the world where the physical manifestation of the well of the All Spark was supposed to reside. 

He knew very well why they were here and it made him angry. Usually the god of destruction and death only controlled where his people made war. He warned them if he did not want them to go somewhere, told them to go other places… stopped them from destroying what did not need to be destroyed.

They and he served a function, battling entropy. That festering terror that no one noticed before it was already there, already grown like some physical monster that could worm itself in everywhere. 

Sometimes they were just the opponents that shook the monster loose and sent it scuttling away, at other times they removed it, and all it had touched. And sometimes… sometimes they were called off entirely and when later they cautiously went to see what had happened they found only rubble where whole worlds had been… if even that much.

Peace was the greatest cause of entropy they knew. 

Peace made a people complacent and that stopped development, creativity, the drive for conscious evolution. Peace paved the way for politics and politics lead to the abuse of power. Abuse of power lead to oppression and oppression in turn lead to the same things as peace… 

Occasionally oppression would lead to rebellion but… by far not always, especially not in older species. 

All in all the silver globe below seemed to promise them that it held all the worst aspects the worlds they battled on Unicron’s orders. 

Yet they were here on their gods orders, not to do battle… but to claim their supposed bond mate. 

“Will you stop ranting now?” Galvatron sounded tired, but then he had been on the receiving end of Megatron’s search for meaning in all this since they had been given this godly decree. 

“Did you ever consider that for all our warring we’re rather static in our own ways? Maybe this is Unicron and Primus attempt and preventing entropy of both the Autobots and us?” for a moment he wanted to violently reject the idea, but being intimately bound to the purple mech made this impossible. And Galvatron was right… 

Or at least the suggestion he made had merit. 

Megatron turned to look upon the silver world with different optics. He could not bring himself to feel joy or even just hope, but at least this might not be as entirely a waste as it had seemed.

“If you had been less angry and less stubborn you would have known this long before now,” the mild tone in the growly voice was his alone, and yes, that had to do with why he had been so angry at this order from the god. He believed whole sparketly that Unicron only had their best in processor, but he also knew that ‘what was best for all’ did not have to be what was best for the individual. Or in this case the individuals… twins. 

They had enough in each other, if they felt like more they had no trouble finding willing participants. 

“Twins cannot spark,” Galvatron’s voice was still mild. But this point drew another chip from the fuel for his anger. 

It was true, if they ever wanted to breed they would both need to sparkbond the same mech, or femme. On the berth his brother scoffed at the idea of a delicate little thing taking them both the way that would be required. Mech then. 

“It is that you can’t chose, and you know it… don’t try to hide it,” he stubbornly kept his optics on the world below. 

“If you had let Unicron guide you,” the dry tone was indicative of how his brother knew this to have been an impossibility, “you would have known that the chosen one is a fair match for us. Sensual in nature, passionate, loyal and rather gorgeous to look at.” 

“And how do you know that” Megatron was less than amused, and rather suspicious. 

“I told you, Unicron has sent us dreams. He wanted us to be prepared. And he is quite put out with you for not accepting this gift,” the sardonic tone was more Galvatron than the mild one. At least more the ‘public’ Galvatron.

“Ah well,” Megatron hedged, “what did he say other than… passionate was it?” if his voice was a little skeptical he did not feel it was bad of him.

“So you are a little bit curious now?” the grin flashed sharp silver dental fangs at him.

“You could have told me before now,” he gestured at the world ‘below’ them.

“Yes, tried that… did not go over so well,” Megatron just growled at that. Come to think of it he did remember that… incident, did not really _want_ to remember it though. And his brother, his dear twin, knew that. 

“In all honesty he only gave impressions… but those were spectacular,” Galvatron shrugged and looked past Megatron to the big view port, optics growing distant. “He is untouched, and yes passionate about his world, about… I think about anything he has any feelings for. We could do a lot worse, and I think we would be hard pressed to do better. He was not just been chosen on a whim, he was chosen for _us_.”

“Chosen for us, huh? Well, we will see soon enough,” Megatron turned back to contemplate the world called Cybertron and his twin returned to study him. But there was peace between them now. 

And less animosity directed at Unicron.

* * *

“I think this is enough,” Optimus huffed, looking at himself in the large mirror. He did not even look like himself anymore, you could actually not see him behind the wails and jewelry and… well the sheer amount of stuff that the priests had decided he should wear. 

Needless to say he did not agree, but he knew better than to argue with them. No subterfuge was better, in this case, waiting till they left and then pull off everything and start over. 

But apart from that it was simply disconcerting to have ten mechs around you directing another dozen or so mechs in dressing you, without ever asking you one question. He should probably be used to it by now but he was not. And he disliked it with a passion.

Since his trip to Chaar the priests had been abuzz, joyful that he had passed the test of meditation, yes, but also fearful… or at least it seemed like fear. Apprehension was perhaps a better word? But they did not speak to him, did not tell him anything and it was _maddening_!

He had asked them, ‘why did the god think it necessary to show me the pleasures of the chassis?’. They had looked at him and then each other, the following discussion that broke out with unaccustomed vigor went quite over his helmet. Morosely he had lamented that he had been too nervous to ask one of Unicron’s priests… he had the sense that they would have been quite blunt with him as to the meaning. 

And then there was this ‘chosen one’ of Unicron… or chosen ones, that he would suite. He had thought the words of the god over, recalling them with an eerie clarity, and they seemed to indicate some sort of union between the Autobots and the Decepticons… a reconciliation? Between the Creations of Primus and Unicron. 

But there had been that strange claim of Unicron’s, a claim he could hardly dismiss, that both races were one and the same. Creations of both Primus and Unicron, that they had simply decided to follow one instead of the other…

The only reason behind him not having drawn a conclusion from all that was happening was… well, he did not want to. Because he knew already, there was simply only one thing to end up in. And he did not want _that_.

The very idea alone that he had been chosen by the Matrix of Leadership, the holiest of holy items, apart from the All Spark itself naturally, for _that_? 

He did not want to believe that Primus, kind and gentle Primus was using him as a bartering tool. No, not even a tool… an item. 

And Primus was kind and gentle, he had offered him the Matrix, not forced it upon him. He had told him that the price would be heavy but that the rewards would be worth it. He had held him when he broke down and admitted that he did not believe he had the skills, told him he did… no wonder! If all he need was to spread… 

No. 

Optimus swallowed, he had to trust Primus. Primus was not responsible for the actions of his priests, the priests were responsible to their god. Though they seemed rather like a tittering group of high end pleasure models right now. 

The comparison nearly made him flush with embarrassment. But really… it was only good that these were low ranking priests and not the high priest and the council of priests. If it had been he might have stalled and crashed offline. 

And then they all left. 

For a moment he just slumped, tired and happy for silence. Then he began pulling off the ridiculous get-up he had been dressed in. taking care not to destroy anything, including his own plating as he pulled off the living jewels they had stuttered him with… who would have even seen them under all the wails? 

If he was to serve _that_ function, he was going there looking his best! Not looking like a bad advertisement of Cybertron’s supposed wealth.

And he had to feel good about himself if he had to go there at all. Trusting Primus or not… he would not go there if he did not feel he was a good enough offering. 

Whatever he was an offering for. 

Putting the too elaborate wails and clothing articles away, the unnecessary flood of jewels and glitter filled waxes too, he sighed and looked out the window at Hadeen. He had approximately a joor.

* * *

“I am sure that you will like Cybertron, my lord, for the half vorn you will spend here every vorn of course,” Galvatron smiled politely, well, more like smiled wickedly but anything that would get the small soft armored politicians to scuttle away, hm? 

So far there were only three mechs here he and his twin could stand. Ultra Magnus was an unnaturally big mech compaired to the others, he was leader of the planetary defense force and the law enforcement devision of Cybertron. Alpha Trion, the council leader who had a shap glossa and a sense of humor as black as a starless night. And finally the very mech both of them had been most vary of, Primus high priest. 

Dia Atlas. 

Unicron’s high priest was a grizzly old war veteran called Deathasaurus, who happened to be half of the Creator bond that had sparked the twins into the world. For some reason they had thought that his counterpart would be a small softspoken thing that would be hurt by someone raising their voice too loud…

Instead they got a dignified old warrior who looked them up and down and then told them to ‘be gentle with him, he is young’, before he swept off with his entourage of shocked looking priests and passive looking knights of Primus chassisguards. 

The rest of the mechs here was pretty much what they had expected though, soft, quailing things that would become boring in a matter of breems. Megatron’s mood and thoughts about their bond mate-to-be had instantly soured again. 

There was one thing they agreed upon, for the most part. The over use of organic fabric was… well, jewels, mesh and metal were fine. Etchings and inlays better, but what was up with hiding behind layers of flimsy fabric? 

The loin cloth the knights of Primus wore were acceptable, then again they might be mesh and not fabric, but most of the nobility , council and politicians were swathed in what had to be miles upon miles of organic stuff. 

It was slightly nauseating. 

He really hoped this chosen one, this Prime was not similarly covered. 

Right now they were waiting for the two moons to reach zenith, the largest one covering the smallest. That was when they would finally actually set optics on the mech he had been allowed to touch in his dreams. 

As he had told his twin he had met the mech when he dreamed, but he had not been allowed to ‘see’ him. Just… feel him, feel some of what he was. Most of the dreams had been intensely erotic, and he was very sure they would be compatible. 

Still, he did not know much more than that the mech was smaller than them. Not a surprise, even Ultra Magnus were smaller than them… and he was considered abnormally large. The personality traits, that passion for example, were things he had gleaned from their deity but nothing more… 

A deep sound pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked to the impressive set of doors at the back of the large ball room. He turned in time to see the second gong, the biggest of the two to the side of the doors, were struck. The sound was even deeper, seemingly more felt than heard, vibrating the very air of the room. 

A single voice rose in song, the black and white singer standing to the left of the ornate double doors, pressed rather simply in a white loin cloth. Blessedly simply, he had a beautiful voice and for a second Galvatron allowed himself to belive that the singer was the chosen one. But he knew better… the dream mech had had a wonderful voice, but nothing like that.

Then the doors moved, swung open in a slow majestic way, opening onto utter darkness. 

Out from the darkness four priests came, they parted to stand on either side of the door. Galvatron was already bored, all this ceremony… was it really necessary?

But then a mech emerged and his spark fairly stopped along with him. Red and blue predominantly, silver white, chrome and black highlights and accents. All legs and curvy hips, broad shoulders… exotically tilted blue optics above a gleaming mask. 

He was not decked in tasteless riches. A silver see-through loin cloth clung to his hips a low hanging platinum belt held it there. His shoulder pauldrons had a handful of blue gems studded on them, a closer look found replicas of the star constellation Chaar was a part of seen from Cybertron. 

That was it. All… 

Riches yes, but by no means anything ridiculous or tasteless.

He looked out over the revelry and then motioned to the crowd, an elegant ‘come-hither’ before turning and walking back into the darkness. 

It was not till a priest arrived to guide him though the doors that he realized the ‘call’ had been for his twin and him, not for the crowd at all.

* * *

The mech was certainly appealing… Megatron was willing to give his twin, and his god, that much. The hips and aft swaying before them as the smaller mech walked towards their destination were… mesmerizing. Not in the least because the loin cloth slid and swayed, offering tantalizing rare glimpses of pristine plating.

He would have liked it better if they had gotten a few moments with him before being dragged off to what would undoubtedly be their bonding. The idea of berthing a stranger, good looking or not, was… unpalatable. 

‘He would have been less a stranger had you allowed Unicron to stir your dreams’, his dermas twisted in a hard smile. His thought alone, but it might as well have been his twin’s words… and true no matter who it came from.

He had only himself to blame. 

There was little relish in what was to come for those reasons and his twin did not offer any support, seemingly stuck to watching the backside, the handsome backside, of their soon to be mate. Honestly he had expected an ‘I told you so’ or at least some teasing… he was wide open for it with his reluctant admiration of the physical attributes and annoyed grouching. Not things Galvatron would usually have forgone using… 

The small mech veered off, passing though a beautifully decorated doorless opening and stopped a little ways into the room. And they were ushered after him by the priests who then left. Thank Unicron, he had feared that they might think to stay and watch. That might well have been the Autobot way, the way of the Primus followers. It was _not_ the way of Unicron’s Decepticons! 

Puplic interfacing happened on feast orns, or at the great celebrations of the vorn… or victories. But never in a million vorn would anyone expect a bonding to be public, nor indeed merging to ever happen in public. 

However… now they were face plate to face plate with the little mech, little and little… he was not that much shorter than them actually, taller than both Ultra Magnus and Dia Atlas. And very well proportioned, the top of his blue helmet reaching about to Megatron’s shoulder, a tiny bit under Galvatron’s. 

Very big for an Autobot. 

“…” the mech made a noise, and then reached up to remove the mask shielding his face from their optics. He looked up, optics a little too wide, showing that he was possibly even less happy with the situation than they were. Or maybe he was simply unsure?

“My name is Optimus Prime, Primus chosen,” the blue gaze was steady though it bounced between Galvatron and him. The voice was a surprisingly sweet baritone, free of any arrogance or fear. Level… it was tempting to say dead but nothing said with that voice could be dead. There was just a distinct lack of enthusiasm. 

“I am Galvatron, this is my twin, Megatron… we are the chosen of Unicron,” interestingly enough something flared in the blue optics at Unicron’s name. Interest? Anger? Lust? It was hard to say, and maybe it was a mix of feelings instead of just one. 

The younger mech looked away, arms crossing over his chest. Not in a defensive gesture as such, more like he was hugging himself. 

“I know, he had the decency to… warn me,” Megatron lifted an optical ridge at the words. Their mate to be seemed significantly less happy about this than his twin, even less happy than he. 

“He… warned you?” it did not much sound like Unicron, their god was many things but he did tend to be as blunt as a shot to the face plates. Cutting though defenses with all the elegance of a wrecking ball. 

~Have a little care, brother, we’re his favorites but that does not mean we will continue being that!~ huffing he sent his twin a glare before retuning his gaze to the Autobot. 

“You are different than your kin… larger? And not as enamored with wealth,” the other tossed his helmet, finials actually moving back a little. Moving? That meant they might well be sensitive… 

He could not help it, looking for weaknesses, things to exploit. They might not have to fight, but weaknesses could be used in other ways… for other purposes. And yes, he wanted it now, wanted this ‘chosen one’. Now that he knew they were not the only ones reluctantly treading this path things were different. 

Galvatron snorted, starteling the Autobot into looking at them again. His optics were truly gorgeous, slightly tilted… a deep blue that Megatron felt sure they could make even deeper. 

“I suppose I am, now… I was… I was a worker before, at the docks. By the space port? But then I was _chosen_ and Primus made me bigger? Just… bigger, he did not change how I looked, or felt,” there was something like bitterness in the words, a bitterness that broke out fully into a vicious snarl, “I wish he had! I wish he had rewritten everything I am!” fear, it was fear that shone so brightly in the azure depths. But not fear of them, not fear of Unicron. 

Putting his arms around the slightly smaller mech was as natural as it had ever been to embrace his twin. Odd… it felt completely different. 

“I hope he never do, you have a fire in you…” he stopped uncertain of how to word it in a way an Autobot would feel was a compliment. 

“A fire that makes you strong, makes you worthy,” Galvatron continued, to his relief, and purple arms joined his own grey ones. 

“He said the same… he said we all had that fire from him,” and they felt it, both of them, a tiny surrender… relaxation. Optimus leaning on them, into them taking strength and support where he had had only himself before. 

Purple claws caressed the side of the pale face plates, turned the blue helmet so that Galvatron could claim them. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, for the tide of want rising in his twin, but he knew why. Optimus needed for them to be gentle… at least to start out. 

“He was right, we got the fire from him… and we got compassion from Primus. They both gave us many other gifts,” he turned Optimus helmet again when Galvatron finally let go and took his own taste of the plump dermas. Tasting his twin and the new flavor of the Autobot… sweet and tangy and all his own. 

Their mate to be reacted to them, grew hot under their hands… moaned into their kisses. Welcomed them with his chassis as he had not with his words. 

Resentment was the furthest thing from Megatron’s mind now, with the lithe mech under him, atop Galvatron’s chassis, valve bared for him to devourer. Virgin valve, untouched mech. 

He was both angry and grateful. 

Optimus had had enough ripped from him, he did not also have to have a loved one taken forcibly from his life. But a virgin? When they would need to take him together to complete the bond! 

No, Megatron had no qualms questioning the sanity of his god even in the midst of this act. For once his twin grimly agreed with him, one purple claw inside too tight wetness alongside his own glossa. Much too tight for what must be done before the dark cycle was over. 

Mere breems later they had forgotten all about questioning the wisdom of their gods, if not altogether forgotten that there existed any gods. Optimus was responding so beautifully to them, riding Galvatron’s spike with eager abandon, his own blunt fingers in his valve along with the purple spike and a couple of black claws. 

Begging for them to finish it. 

Begging for the bond they had to make, they _wanted_ to make. 

Taking him was pleasurable agony, the valve still felt too tight around them both. But his scream was one of ecstasy not one of pain, and his spark was so beautiful in all its silver glory… 

And it was all theirs…

* * *

“United again…” the golden armor flashed, not from the light of the many stars around them, but from the inside. 

“’What once was will be again’, I promised you…” the burnt orange armor had its own form of inner light, or maybe it was inner darkness? 

“You took my Creation!” the heat rivaled that of a dying star. 

“He was my Creation too, for all that he was Carried in your spark,” the mildness was almost wrong, coming from the spiky god. 

“…” the golden god slumped a little, looking away… back towards the world where unity had been restored, “that is true…” the words were low, whispered into the darkness between the stars with a longing so profound it seemed like it might become something solid and real. 

“I never stopped waiting for you, my twin,” the soft words were just as low, just as ready to manifest themselves as a new kind of reality. 

The sound answering them were no words known in any spoken languid. But it was a better answer than any words could give. 

And while the words never quite made reality, the light of the gods sparks did create, for that was the reason they existed.

* * *

Somewhere at the dark beginning of the universe, of all universes another being heaved a great sigh… it’s all seeing optics closing for a fraction of a second as one of its many pains throbbed one last time before soothing away…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A birthday gift for the DeviantArt artist & author DinobotLoki
> 
> Beta  
> DarkShadeless

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday gift for the DeviantArt artist & author DinobotLoki
> 
> Beta  
> AKzeal


End file.
